The Drabbles Series
by Asha Dreamweaver
Summary: Spin-off from my ‘First Knight’ story. Drabbles and scenes that were not included in the actual FK story.
1. Default Chapter

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THE DRABBLES SERIES BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: Spin-off from my 'First Knight' story. Drabbles and scenes that were not included in the actual FK story.

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Author's notes: In honour of the first anniversary of my story 'First Knight', I present to you my drabbles series. Everything from outtakes to missed scenes, to moments I wanted to write but never fit in with the flow of the story shall end up here. Though I do not promise any regular updating like with 'First Knight' as I have exams looming until July. Hope you enjoy!

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THE EVENSTAR

He blinked, but the image did not waver. "Undómiel?" he said, half-whispering.

The darkling she-Elf smiled and moved closer, until she had twined her arms around his neck, "Aye, nín Greenleaf," she said, her breath ghosting past his ear, "'Tis me."

Instinctively, he tightened his hold on her, feeling the luxuriant velvet of her dress underneath his hands, "How?"

She pulled back slightly, face serene but with a hint of mischievousness peeking through, "'Tis not only my daernaneth that can do such things," she chastised him gently, "I missed you." she stated simply, "I found my heart only to lose it to this quest. I cannot be at ease unless I know that you are all safe."

"Gandalf…" Legolas said, eyes darkening with grief but was halted when she pressed a finger to his lips.

"Do not speak of it; I beg you," she entreated him softly, "Let not your soul be worried here. Here, you are to rest and retreat from the cares of the world for a while. Soon enough shall we be parted, by leagues upon leagues of Middle Earth, or perhaps by a sundering sea or death's hand? I would not waste a moment of this respite." She paused, and for the first time, uncertainty and vulnerability was in her eyes, "That is… if you want to be here? It was presumptuous of me, invading your dreams… I should ha….."

He caught her wrist when she made to pull away, and then throwing restraint to the wind, drew her into a heated kiss that had both of them heaving for breath when he pulled away. "What was that for?" she asked breathlessly, cheeks flushed rosily.

He smirked, for there could be no Elladan or Elrohir, or worse - Elrond, lurking about in this dream within a dream, "To stop you being so foolish, nín Undómiel," he said teasingly, "Presumptuous? Aye, you always were. But an Edhel could get used to presumptions such as these…"

She blushed and swatted him playfully, "May I remind you that I do know how to use a sword?"

"Aye, Arwen, I know that very well," he agreed, "But you are in Rivendell, and while you may set your grandparents upon me in this Golden Wood, you cannot run me through yourself." He saw the small spark of irate fire in her eyes, but it was dampened by some intruding memory ere the lady could give him a tongue lashing. Concerned, he tilted her head up until her wandering eyes met his once more, "Meleth?" he asked, "What ails you?"

She sighed, and then taking his hand led him to a stone bench in the secluded glade, the tinkling of the waterfall the only sound in the night, "Adar wishes for me to go West," she said after a moment of silence, "He wants me to go to Valinor ere I wish to and heeds not my protests. I fear my choices grow slim. I know he wants me out of the way, but I know not why. He prowls the corridors, and talks secretly with Glorfindel and Erestor, but he never gives me even a hint of what has him so scared. Because he is scared, melethron, and that scares me in turn."

He sat down beside her, and placed his arm around her, letting her dark head rest against his shoulder as he stroked her back soothingly, "It will all be well, meleth," he said quietly, "We shall not be sundered now. Even if I must follow you to the very ends of Arda."

Her breath caught, "But 'tis not your time, your home, your father…" she protested.

"Meleth, my adar has known how I feel about you for a very long time," Legolas admitted, "Longer than I cared to acknowledge my feelings actually, for you were betrothed to Aragorn at the time. He would not begrudge me my choice. And my home cannot stay adrift for long if Lórien and Rivendell are all abandoned."

"My adar might believe that the time of the Elves is over," Arwen said softly, "But I think my daernaneth has changed her mind. And I have never believed that our time in this world is ending. It may have waned, but I cannot see why we cannot exist side by side with the Men of the West as my adar scoffed at. I do not want to leave my only home just as the war for its freedom is being fought by everyone else. I do not want to leave these shores yet…. I do not want to leave you…"

He held her tighter, "Ai, you make me feel like an elfling again, Arwen," he said roughly, "But I too believe that our time is not over. But I am no fool. If you go West, then it could not be long ere I would follow. Even if only to keep the Ellyn of Valinor from throwing themselves at your feet."

"There would be no others, Greenleaf," the Elf-maid swore softly, "My heart has been given into your keeping, and I would have it so for eternity. Oh, if only we were not parted by so much! Would that I could be with you again! The air in Rivendell grows grim and I miss you, and my brothers now ride to war. I do not know what I should do."

"No one can tell you Undómiel," Legolas reminded her, "You must make this choice. I know from experience what comes from well-meaning relatives acting in your 'best interests' and I know that the only true path is to hearken to your own heart."

Her grey eyes gleamed in the starlight, and she looked upon him as tenderly as he did her, "You are a good Edhel, Legolas Greenleaf," she said, "Better than you would ever admit. Your own admirers do not do you justice."

Legolas blanched, "You know about that?"

She laughed at his expression, "How could I not? Your father has kept me well informed about your exploits. It seems he approves that you have finally found someone to settle down with."

The archer frowned, "I wish that his motives were sincere… but we parted on bad terms… He tried to keep me in the forest, to stop me from going with the Fellowship…."

Arwen placed a comforting hand on his arm, "I know it is hard, nín ind, but you cannot blame him for being afraid. If he knows even a smidgeon of the fear that I feel for you, I cannot blame him for trying to keep you safe."

He said nothing and so they sat there, holding each other, until Arwen felt the dawn approaching and drew away reluctantly. "I can hold you here no longer," she said, "The sun rises. And with it ends this dream. Farewell for now, my love," and then she kissed him softly on the lips before he disappeared from the dreamscape.

She sat looking at the spot where he had been, and she knew her choice was made.

She would not go West.

It was time to make her own stand for this world.

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Elvish:

Undómiel - Evenstar

Nín - my

Edhel - Elf

Meleth - love

Melethron - lover (male)

Adar - father

Daernaneth - grandmother

Ind - heart

Ellyn - male Elves (plural)

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«´¨ Asha D ¨»  
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	2. In the Line of Fire

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THE DRABBLES SERIES BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: Spin-off from my 'First Knight' story. Drabbles and scenes that were not included in the actual FK story.

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Author's notes: Here's instalment number two! Set after chapter 26: Every Which Way But Loose.

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IN THE LINE OF FIRE

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Mirkwood, 3018 TA, November.

Brethilas generally considered himself a sensible Elf.

In the realm he lived in, it was a desirable quality as to his mind and that of his staid Lothlórien mother, the great forest… um, _affectionately_ dubbed Mirkwood housed what was probably the greatest collection of loons in Elvendom.

Not that he was not loyal to the king though. It was just that King Thranduil sometimes acted just the slightest bit insane. Take the events of the last few days for instance!

First, Prince Legolas (a regular hellion if there ever was one and Noldo trained in mischief!) shows up with a ragtag ranger to tell his father – according to rumour anyway – that he was going on some trip with several humans, Mithrandir and a Dwarf. And what was worse, it was a Lonely Mountain Dwarf. An escapee from the good King's dungeons Dwarf. The very mention of a Dwarf set the King off on one of his famous rampages. Let alone one of _those_ Dwarfs!

Anyway, according to the rumour, said prince had found himself and his companion bundled away as his adar's guests, but against the odds, had somehow escaped the watch that King Thranduil had set.

The resulting explosion had surely been heard as far away as Esgaroth!

To say the King was livid was an understatement. Even his advisors said that upon learning of his son's escapades, King Thranduil had shut himself into his study where later on, lots of crashing sounds had been heard through the doors, along with what seemed to be threats of evisceration against a certain Lord Elrond and his 'half brained, mannish, insults to Elven intelligence' plans. And that had been of the few mutterings fit for Elfling ears.

As to how Brethilas came to be involved in this tale of a rambunctious prince and his temperamental father… well, that was quite simple.

Dragged out of his bed at an appalling hour of the night by one of the guard, he had been summarily marched to the king's study where he got to personally experience the narrow eyed glower that bespoke Thranduil in a temper, and after several blood-chilling instructions, a thick piece of sealed parchment had been shoved into his hands and he had been quite unceremoniously kicked out to the stables.

Naturally, he had been most curious, who could blame him for wanting to see what the cause of all this bother was?

And so he opened the letter.

He had never regretted anything more.

From the initial 'Peredhel, I am going to kill you!' to the 'I will rip out your spleen with a fork', the letter sent chills down his spine. It mainly consisted of opening threats, middle demands/threats and the closing death threats, it was definitely not something he should have even contemplated opening.

He looked at the letter in his hand like it was a burning brand, his horror at the news he had to deliver blatantly oblivious to anyone passing by.

He wondered whether he should start putting his affairs in order, While Lord Elrond was not known for killing any messengers sent to him but he was afraid once he delivered the news his King had bid him to convey, Lord Elrond might see fit to string him from the tallest tree in Rivendell… or throw him down the falls… or set Glorfindel, the Balrog-slayer on him… or Elbereth forbid, set his _children_ on him. He had heard the Evenstar had quite a temper on her and that Lord Elrond's sons… well, quite frankly he had heard they attempted things no sane Elf would attempt. Still Lord Elrond could just smite him down himself… or use Vilya to do _something_ to him… wait a minute, had not the heirs of Imladris inherited their grandmother's magic?…

The poor messenger's thoughts ran on in that vein for quite a while. Needless to say that he was not a happy camper…

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Rivendell.

Eyebrow arched and hands crossed over his chest, Elrond gave his patented glare to the two most disrespectable, giggling and chortling, excuses for advisors. "Do laugh," he said dryly, eyeing them severely, "Perhaps you could explain to Círdan and Galadriel why Mirkwood is about to declare war on the valley?"

Erestor just looked at him like he was a dunce, "Oh yes," he drawled, "Because we all know that Thranduil does not have reason. Because you did not let his only son and heir volunteer himself for Mordor. With a Dwarf."

Glorfindel smirked at him too, obviously enjoying himself way to much for Elrond's liking, "I would imagine that he will try to skin you alive the next time he sees you. And if ought happens to Legolas, well… I have seen Thranduil in a taking. In that eventuality, I say that it was nice knowing you, mellon nín."

Mentally contemplating why he put such completely insane Elves into office, and counting down the reasons why Kinslaying was outlawed.

"If it is any consolation mellon," Erestor said, "I think Thranduil's messenger nearly dropped dead from anxiety when he was handing over the letter. I think he knew something of what it said. And did not care much to hear your reaction to it either."

"Aye," Glorfindel agreed, "You would have thought he was facing Morgoth himself. Or maybe it was just the famous 'look'?"

Elrond gave him a scathing glare that clearly said 'quiet now or I will outdo the Balrog' but Glorfindel just blithely ignored it and smiled winningly – and mockingly – at him. Elrond gave up and flopping down onto his desk, quietly banged his head against the desk, ignoring his two friends' stares.

The Valar surely hated him.

At the very least, they were having sport at his misfortune.

What else could explain this… this catastrophe!

If it was not Aragorn up in arms over Buffy joining the fellowship whilst glaring at Arwen who was fussing over Buffy's health when she returned with the twins, then Legolas was trying to stop the stem of message-birds his father was sending, all but threatening to cart him off to Valinor _and_ pay back Elrond for 'recklessly endangering Middle Earth and Legolas with his idiotic, Noldorin Peredhel ways, corrupting honest Elves into having ideas of such harebrained nonsense that it just _had_ to be a plot of some sort'.

The Elf Lord sighed as Glorfindel cautiously poured a glass of water on his head, barely biting back a smirk, under the guise of 'snapping him out of it'.

Water dripping down his face and his back, Elrond just shook his head.

Someone was _definitely_ out to get him…

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Elvish:

Mithrandir – Grey Pilgrim

Adar – father

Peredhel – Half-Elven

Mellon nín – my friend

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('·.¸('·.¸ ¸.·'´) ¸.·'´)  
«´¨ Asha D ¨»  
(¸.·'´(¸.·'´ '·.¸)' ·.¸)  
¸.·´  
( ·.¸  
·.¸ )  
¸.·)´  
(.·´  
.  
.  



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